


Spend Time With Me

by 14CookiesGone



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Huddling For Warmth, M/M, Making Out, Sharing a Bed, bedtime cuddles, indrid always needs to be warm, indruck fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2020-04-23 16:53:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19155142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/14CookiesGone/pseuds/14CookiesGone
Summary: Duck starts to spend more and more time with Indrid outside of regular working hours, and soon falls into a regular routine of seeing him.Their first kiss was chaste. Soft and sweet and quick, and everything Duck had imagined it to be, on countless occasions.





	Spend Time With Me

Duck was aware that Indrid was a messy guy. He had seen the inside of the beaten up camper more times recently than he cared to admit to anyone, and especially not to Ned or Aubrey. The crumpled drawings by the side of the sofa that didn’t quite make it to the waste paper basket. The discarded clothes strewn across the floor and every available chair back, rather than in the hamper that was literally _right fucking there_. The overflowing trash can by the door in the kitchenette that consisted of basically nothing else but power bar wrappers and empty eggnog cartons. The piles of blankets dumped across every available flat surface that was big enough to fall asleep on which was not limited to the bed and the sofa, but also in piles in front of space heaters, as if Indrid would just sleep anywhere that was warm. The mountain of dirty dishes in the sink, that was sometimes so precarious Duck wondered how Indrid had anything left to eat with or drink out of. Jesus fuck those dishes. Duck didn’t dare ask how long some of them had been sat there, considering the pile never seemed to change much. He was pretty sure that he wouldn’t like the answer. The pile sometimes was smaller, though more often not, but Duck knew that it was probably because the other man had run out of plates, rather than run into a need to actually wash them.

 

There did come a time when Indrid seemed to get better with at least some of his habits. He tried to get better with them anyway. When Duck first started visiting him on a more regular basis, Indrid did indeed take out the trash - on more than one occasion. It wasn’t even if it was far to do so. The first few times, he had even made an effort to make it look as if he wasn’t living in a literal RV, though he knew that it was a little bit futile. The age of the thing alone was to his disadvantage, but he certainly tried. There was just no hiding years of abuse of living the way he did. He hadn’t had a need to in all the years he had lived in it. No matter how hard he tried though, he just couldn’t keep the place looking nice for extended periods of time. Duck noticed, and looked pleased, when he had made an effort, and he swore to himself that he would do anything to keep the surprised but happy look on the rangers face. He had memorised it in the last few weeks, and sketched it countless times. The way Duck’s eyes lit up and crinkled at the edges when he smiled was something Indrid never could have imagined. It wasn’t just Duck’s eyes he enjoyed drawing either. He had a sketchbook that was damn near filled with images of Duck Newton. His - but in so many ways not his - favorite new friend.

 

Weeks passed, and Duck had grown almost inseparable from Indrid in his spare time. He had noticed that while Indrid had tidied up his act a little bit at first, the facade was gradually slipping. However, Duck didn’t mind all of the mess. Some of it he found to be a little endearing. The blanket piles in front of space heaters was a sore topic that Duck brought up with Indrid on more than one occasion, though it had fallen on mostly deaf ears. When Indrid was at his place however, he seemed to always be on his best behaviour. Sketches were piled neatly, or discarded of in the appropriate manner while they sat and watched some documentary about trees. Duck knew that Indrid would hate it, but they still watched together anyway, the latter indulging him in such a way he found it positively charming. On the nights that Indrid stayed over, the blankets were always folded neatly on the end of the sofa the next morning when they headed out - Duck off to work and Indrid to wherever he went when they weren’t together. Indrid never offered the information, and Duck never asked. Dishes were taken through to the kitchen and piled in the sink - Duck’s pet hate was a stack of dishes. However Duck was yet to see Indrid actually _wash_ anything, but at least the thought was there. And he did appreciate it, in a way. At the camper, Indrid still tried, and Duck appreciated the effort. The first time Duck had stayed over at the camper due to a sudden torrential downpour that would have made navigating the forest trails lethal, Indrid had insisted he took the bed. The small fold out couch was barely comfortable for just sitting on, let alone spending the night on it unless you were used to it. He would gladly sacrifice his own back for Duck’s comfort. Duck hadn’t originally meant to stay, as a lifetime of living in Kepler and navigating the forest did not put him off the drive. He certainly hadn’t planned to end up in bed with the other guy, though he was pleasantly surprised to find the sheets were freshly laundered, and smelt exactly how the forest did in spring after a rainstorm. Duck had responded to Indrids insistence about him taking the bed by pulling the other guy through to the bedroom with him _insisting_ that the bed was big enough for the both of them. It technically was big enough for two, but Duck couldn’t stop himself from laying closer to Indrid than was strictly necessary in the dark. He told himself it was to provide warmth to Indrid, as the guy always seemed to be cold. And if Indrid snuggled closer to the warmth in his sleep as they lay there in the dark, then he wasn’t going to complain.

 

Indrid knew damn well what he was doing, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to stop. He could tell that Duck had feelings for him although he seemed to be too polite to act on them. But Indrid knew. He knew with each little thing that Duck did when they were together. He knew for certain the first night that they spent in Indrids home, and Duck laid closer to him that was strictly necessary. And Indrid had laid there, barely breathing and feigning sleep, before snuggling closer in the darkness, where Duck would be unable to see the blush on his cheeks. He had heard Ducks breath hitch as he did this, and he knew. They were both screwed. The next time Indrid had spent the night at Ducks a few weeks later, it was only natural that he had followed the ranger to the bedroom when he had mentioned sleep. Neither of them questioned it at all. Duck had wordlessly crossed to his dresser and pulled out a ratty pair of sweatpants and handed them over, with a blush, a smile, and a stammer about going to change in the bathroom. Indrid had stepped out of his own clothes, and left them in a plie in the middle of the floor, before pulling on Ducks old sweats. He also spied a sweatshirt hanging over the back of the chair - an item that Indrid had seen Duck wearing the other day in Leo’s store - and pulled that on too. Duck always underestimated just how warm he needed to be. The sweatshirt hung loose on his body, but the sleeves were too short by a good few inches and he pushed them up to his elbows. He was just slipping between the sheets of the bed when Duck returned, arms laden with blankets from the closet in the bathroom. He dumped them at the foot of the bed, and Indrid audibly gasped. Duck was wearing nothing but his underwear and a deep blush as he started to spread the blankets on the bed. Mumbled something about not having space heaters like in the RV and wanted him to be warm. Indrid grinned, and snuggled deeper into the nest that Duck was building on top of him so that his face didn’t betray his feelings. Duck rounded to the other side of the bed and slipped in, drawn inexplicably to the middle of the bed and slipping an arm over Indrid’s waist, pulling him back against his body. Indrid’s grin grew impossibly wider still, though unseen by Duck. He could feel every inch of the man behind him where their bodies touched. He radiated heat, and Indrid could understand now why he was stripped down to his underwear. If he was already this warm from only just getting into bed, the pile of blankets on top would probably be too much for him personally, but he had done it for Indrid’s benefit. This resonated somewhere deep inside him, and he relaxed further into Duck’s embrace and took a hold of the hand that was resting near his chest. He heard Duck’s breathing falter as he did this, and before anything happened to change his mind, he raised it to his lips and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to Duck’s palm. There was a slightly worrying extended period of stillness and silence behind him, and Indrid wondered if he had shocked Duck to death. Then, softly, almost as if he was afraid the man would break, Duck pressed a kiss to the material covered back of Indrid’s shoulder. And then the join where his neck met his shoulder, where the collar of the sweatshirt met skin. And then the side of his neck, then under his jaw, and then just as he was about to place the next one, Indrid rolled slightly to make the position easier for Duck. He misjudged badly, but not in a bad way at all.

 

When Indrid had shifted, Duck had been part way to kissing him on the cheek. What he hadn’t anticipated for was the directional change, and Indrid raising his head, and they ended up connecting lips. Their first kiss was chaste. Soft and sweet and quick, and everything Duck had imagined it to be, on countless occasions. It was over almost as soon as it had started, and they both froze. Duck could feel Indrid watching him through the red lenses of his glasses, and he really wished that he could see through them and search the eyes of the man below him for what move to make next. As if sensing his hesitation, Indrid turned more and raised himself to press his lips against Duck’s for a second time, wrapping a cool arm around his neck and pulling him in tight. Duck obliged, shifting their positions slightly to hover over Indrid. He could feel the man below him surrendering to him. Surrendering to his kisses, and then when Duck rested his weight on one arm next to Indrid’s head, tangling the other hand into soft, silvery hair, surrendering to his touch as well. Duck gave the hair in his hand an experimental tug, and Indrid gasped into his open mouth, and if it wasn’t the hottest thing that had happened to Duck for years he didn’t know what was. Indrids hands were trailing his back and there was a coolness against his hot skin that Duck couldn’t get enough of. Detaching his lips from Indrids - with a whine of protest escaping the other man's lips - Duck pulled Indrids head to the side by his hair, and moved his kissing to the exposed skin below his jaw, before biting down. If the cool fingers against his back had been mesmerising, then the sharp nails that dug in and scratched as he bit down were downright sinful. Duck lowered his weight slowly, as if scared he was going to crush the person below him. Almost as if he sensed the hesitation, Indrid rolled them over with a surprising amount of strength, and now sat straddled over his waist. He gazed up to Indrid sitting in his lap, cheeks flushed and panting slightly, and wasn’t entirely sure how it had all happened so quickly. He reached forward to grip Indrids hips, his fingers sliding easily under the hem of what he recognised to be his forest ranger PT sweatshirt. He couldn’t even be mad because the colour looked so much better against Indrids skin than it did his own. Indrids hand rested easily on his chest and he revelled in the feeling of long fingers skimming lightly through his chest hair.

“Duck..” he heard Indrid breathe quietly under his breath, and he could feel the blush spread across his face and chest of. He could hear the wanting in Indrids voice, lower by an octave or two than his usual timbre. Ducks hands continued to explore the small sliver of exposed skin above the waistband of his sweats on the other man.

“Yeah darlin’?” he murmured in response. Indrid let out the smallest of whimpers at the pet name, and Duck stored that information for future use.

“Duck, please.. I think that perhaps we should restrain ourselves.” Duck’s mouth twisted into a wicked grin at the choice of words, and he physically felt Indrid squirm in his lap. “That was a bad choice of words, I mean.. Oh goodness..” Indrid trailed off and Duck gathered his meaning, and stilled the exploration of his hands.

“I think ya might be right there, ‘Drid,” Duck said. “I didn’t realise things would get quite so out of hand.” The second half of his statement he punctuated with a squeeze of his hands on Indrids hips. This earned him another small whimper.

“I did not either,” Indrid replied earnestly. “I am not complaining, but I think that maybe we should be a little bit more prepared.” Duck nodded, and reluctantly allowed Indrid to climb off his lap. He opened his arms to wrap them around the other man, and Indrid gladly crept into the embrace, his should resting on the warm shoulder, and one cool arm thrown over Duck’s waist. He sighed contentedly, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of Indrids head.

“Soon though, darlin’,” he breathed into the silvery strands. “Soon.”

**Author's Note:**

> Omg this is my first fic in god knows how many years, and my first dip into the The Adventure Zone and/or Indruck fandom. I have so many feel about these two, and I think there might be more to come. 
> 
> But I always say that, so enjoy this rambling. I may or may not write the follow up scene to this where they actually do get it on.


End file.
